


Stumbling Through Life

by SweetandSnarky89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetandSnarky89/pseuds/SweetandSnarky89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since the War and Harry is reminded just how little has changed when he rescues Draco Malfoy. Of course, nothing is ever that simple. </p><p>Draco's life has been shit since the War but he'd given up hoping for anything else. Until Harry Potter rides back into his life on his white horse and starts to interfere. He can't deny Harry's friendship is nice and making things much better for Draco. But on the other hand, how long can he hide some of his deepest secrets? And just how deep down the rabbit hole does Harry secrets go?</p><p>Ignores the epilogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secrets in the Alley

**Author's Note:**

> Although I have tons of partially written Drarry, this is actually the first I've ever posted. I'm hope that you will enjoy it. It has been a long time since I've posted anything in the Harry Potter fandom and I'm excited about this story. Sexual content will come later in the story but I promise will be worth the wait.

Harry sulked in the corner of the bar, nursing the same pint he’d been holding all night. It was Seamus’ stag night and most of the blokes he’d come with were well passed pissed already. Harry had been dreading this all week and if it hadn’t been for Ron’s insisting, he probably wouldn’t have come out. Reporters circled outside the bar, ready and waiting for them to come outside. It had been a while since the press had taken such an obvious interest in them but the five year anniversary of the Battle at Hogwarts had renewed the media’s interest in the ‘Heroes of the War’. Ron and Hermione didn’t mind the attention so much, but Harry couldn’t stand it. He didn’t trust the press, hadn’t since his Hogwarts years, and he wasn’t keen on some stranger taking pictures of him every time he stepped out of his flat. Harry eyed the mob of reporters and then the mob of blokes making yet another toast to Seamus’ final night of freedom. He managed to catch Ron’s eyes and nodded his head towards the back entrance. If Ron had an objection, he kept it to himself, and Harry snuck out of the bar. 

The air was frigid and he quickly stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat. Making sure that no one had seen him and that no one was waiting in the alley, he headed off. This wasn’t the first time he was forced to sneak away from an event and as such, he knew the alleys of Diagon Alley rather well. He took a right, and then a left, before reaching the last alley between him and his way home. He wasn’t alone in this alley. Three men, obviously drunk, were standing around in a semi-circle. One kicked out his foot and it landed with a thud against something. The something groaned in pain and Harry drew his wand quickly. He took a few steps forward, close enough to see that someone was curled into a ball on the ground in front of the men. “Stop,” he bellowed. 

The men turned to face him, clearly drunk enough to think they could fight him. The sight of his drawn wand made them rethink their bravery and they fled down the alleyway. Harry approached the man on the ground cautiously, his wand raised but off to the side. There was blood spattering the pavement and as he approached he could see the matted red blood in shocking blonde hair. “Malfoy,” Harry whispered. He pocketed his wand and walked around, crouching down. “Malfoy,” he said a little louder and was pleased to see that he was still conscious. “Hold on, I’ll get you to St. Mungo’s.”

“No,” Draco croaked out. Harry reached forward, fulling intending to chalk the ‘no’ up to obvious delirium, when Draco spoke again. “No…hospital.”

Harry’s hand halted above Draco’s shoulder. If he didn’t want to go to a hospital, Harry would have to take him home. “Okay,” he whispered. But the cold gray eyes that had been staring up at him were shut as Draco finally lost consciousness. 

-x-

He woke with a start and jolted up in the bed. The movement forced the air out of his lungs and his chest felt like it was going to explode. He blinked rapidly, taking in the unfamiliar surrounds. Well, it wasn’t a dungeon or an alleyway. It also wasn’t a hospital and he was thankful that whoever it had been that found him had listened. He reached for his wand as the door creaked open and found it missing. “Can I come in?” A voice, a very familiar voice, came through the crack in the door. 

“Identify yourself,” Draco croaked out. He eyed the glass of water on the bedside table but he wouldn’t be eating or drinking anything until he knew who it was that had come across him. 

“Harry Potter,” the man said, “but I doubt you will believe me.” The door creaked open further and true enough, Harry bloody Potter walked into the room.    
“Oh great,” Draco drawled. “Haven’t you had enough of saving people for one lifetime?”

“Obviously not,” Harry responded. He walked over the bedside table and took a sip from the cup. “I didn’t poison it, you can drink it.”

He hated to take anything from Potter but his throat was dry and he knew that stubbornness wouldn’t help in this situation. He took the glass and downed the water. “Where is my wand?”

Harry held his hand out, Draco’s wand resting in his palm. Draco snatched it back quickly and instantly felt a little better. “So, why no hospital?”

“I hit one of them,” Draco replied. “It is against my parole to be involved in fights.”

“Even in self defense?” Draco raised his eyebrow, “I got a good look at two of the blokes, muggleborns from Hogwarts. I figured with the proximity to the bar and the fact that the anniversary is around the corner…”

Draco nodded. “Well it seems those Auror training skills came in handy.”

“I guess so. Anyways, I know that you said no hospitals but I don’t have enough medical training to heal your bigger injuries. I’ve called someone, she should be here soon actually.”

“I don’t need…” he groaned as he tried to move and Harry flashed him an exasperated look. 

Before either of them could say anything else, a knock sounded on the bedroom door. “Harry, you in there?”

“Come in Luna,” Harry answered. 

Luna walked into the room with a bright smile. “Hello Harry,” she turned her attention to the bed, “oh…hello Draco. You don’t look so well.”

“Noted,” Draco responded. “Could you just fix me up so I can get the bloody hell out of here.”

“Well, I can do my best. You really should let us take you to the hospital.” Luna stepped up and waved her wand over Draco’s body. “Fractured collarbone, two broken ribs, bruised spleen, laceration to the leg, broken ankle, and some internal bleeding.”

Harry winced but Draco’s face remained stoic. “Can you fix it?”

“Of course I can,” Luna responded. “But I really shouldn’t you know? It’s against my oath to provide services outside of St. Mungo’s unless it is an emergency situation.”

“I’m in Potter’s bed, consider this an emergency.” Harry rolled his eyes and stepped out of the room to let Luna work in peace. Truthfully, he needed to take a breather. It had been years since he’d last seen Draco Malfoy, five years in fact. He remembered the pale, well paler, face of a younger Malfoy as he was dragged into the Wizengamot with his parents at the end of the war. Harry had spoken for Draco and his mother, both of which were given parole for ten years. Lucius was found guilty and sentenced to life in Azkaban. He set his kettle on the stove and headed back towards his room. 

“Oh good you are back,” Luna said, “I’ve just finished.”

“Wonderful, can I go home now?” Draco attempted to make the sound impatient, but the heavy set of his eyes gave away just how tired he was.

“Do you have anyone there with you?” The look on Draco’s face made it pretty clear that the answer was no. “You need to watched for the next 24 hours. I’ve healed everything the diagnosis spell found, but there could be some issues afterwards. You will need someone to keep an eye on you to make sure that there are no residual side effects.”

Draco glared, “I will be fine.”

“If you don’t have someone to watch you, then you will have to come back with me. I can’t let you go home alone.”

“You can stay,” Harry muttered. 

Draco’s eyes snapped up, “Are you kidding me? I don’t want to stay here.”

“Well I could think of a few better houseguests myself,” Harry spat back, “but you can’t go home alone.”

“I find this solution satisfactory,” Luna interrupted. “Draco will stay with you until tomorrow morning. I will come back and if his health checks out, he can be free to go.” She smiled brightly and headed out of the room. 

Harry turned back, expecting Draco to start yelling, but it seemed that all of Luna’s healing had taken a bit of a toll on him. His eyes were heavy and he blinked slowly. “Look, I know why you don’t want to go to the hospital. I’ll be back in a few hours with some dinner but until then just rest.”

He hadn’t expected and thank you and he didn’t get one. Draco’s eyes fluttered shut and Harry headed out of the room. 

-x-


	2. Nightmares

The sound of screaming woke Harry. He crouched low to the ground, wand at the ready, and scanned the area instinctively. It took him a moment to remember his house guest and he headed into the bedroom with his wand ready. A quick scan of the room showed no other signs of life except for the pale blonde asleep in Harry’s bed. He was whimpering now and tossing around in his sleep. Harry was inclined to leave him to his nightmare, but another scream forced him into action and he stepped forward. He knelt down and carefully reached forward shaking Draco’s shoulders. “Malfoy,” Harry whispered. 

Draco’s eyes shot open and his wand was pointed directly at Harry before he could even blink. 

“Malfoy,” Harry repeated. 

“Potter, what are you doing here?” The words were barely hissed out, “they will kill you.”

Harry shuddered and instantly knew just what Draco had been dreaming about. “Malfoy…it’s ok. You are at my house, remember? You were injured.”

Draco blinked his eyes several times and lowered his wand carefully, “Potter?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Harry said. He flicked his wand and the lamp beside the bed flickered on. Harry stood up and carefully backed away from the bed. “I’ll make some tea, head into the kitchen when you are ready.”

Harry headed out the door, leaving it open behind him and hoped that Draco hadn’t noticed the slight shaking of his hand. He knew nightmares, knew the way it left you shaken and weak, and he knew some small comforts to help force those images from your mind. He set the kettle on the burner and instinctively reached for a pan. It was routine for him to make grilled cheese after his nightmares and he shrugged, either Draco would eat it or he wouldn’t. He was almost finished with the sandwich when he heard a shuffling behind him. “Sorry.”

Harry shrugged, sliding a mug of tea towards him. “I know nightmares,” he said in response. “You do milk or sugar?”

“Sugar,” Draco said. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Harry responded. He placed the sugar in front of Draco and then the sandwich. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, “It’s grilled cheese. I make them when I wake up from nightmares, Hermione got me hooked on them.”

Draco tentatively took a small bite. “What are yours about?”

Harry sipped his own cup of tea and leaned back against the counter. He could very easily not answer, after all this was Draco Malfoy and they weren't exactly friends. But he had very few people who did understand it and he was sure that Draco would. “Death,” Harry replied. “Did you know that I actually died?” Draco frowned but said nothing, although Harry noticed he took a much larger bite of his sandwich this time. “I suppose not, the only people I told were Ron and Hermione.”

“Why did you go into the forrest?”

“We were there, when Snape died. The snake had left him alive, only barely, but enough for him to give me some memories.”

Draco sucked in a deep breath. For a minute, Harry thought that Draco would ask him to stop and he remembered suddenly that Snape was Draco’s godfather. Even now, years after Sirius’ death, it sometime made his heart clench just to hear his name. He gave Draco a minute and waited until he nodded that Harry should continue. 

“Basically, it all boiled down to the fact that I had to die. And that Voldemort had to kill me. During our sixth year, the reason Dumbledore was on that tower that night, was because he’d been training me. Setting it up so that I could find and destroy all of the defenses that Voldemort had in place to keep him alive even if his body was destroyed. Then, once all those were eliminated, I was to die. And Snape was tasked with letting me know at the opportune moment.”

“But that’s…you were only a kid.” Draco’s face looked paler than normal and Harry wondered just how much of that was concern over what had happened to Harry or memories of what had happened to him. 

“So where you,” Harry pointed out. “In the end we were nothing but soldiers in the armies of powerful men, tools that could be used to achieve a greater purpose.”

Draco rubbed his left arm absently. “Mine’s the snake,” he whispered. “When he was living in the Manor, it used to roam around. Of course, it didn’t kill without permission because he wanted to make all the kills a show. I watched that thing eat the Muggle Studies professor.”

Harry shuddered, “I lived inside his head occasionally, I can’t imagine living with him all the time.”

“He liked blood,” Draco whispered and his eyes glazed over. “The whole Manor smelled like it, except the garden. I used to hide there, hoping that something would happen. We kept hearing that no one could find you and I hoped…well, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Harry could have pushed for more, but the things they’d already shared were deeply personally and he figured pushing it would damage…whatever it was that had passed between them. “Do you want a dreamless sleep?”

“I…can’t have them anymore,” Draco admitted. 

“Me either,” Harry responded. Dreamless sleep was highly addictive and once someone had kicked the addiction, they weren’t able to take it again. It was a sign, a small one, that in some way Draco trusted him enough to let him know about this weakness they apparently shared.

“Thanks, for the tea and the sandwich,” Draco said as he stood up. 

Harry nodded and watched as Draco walked back into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Maybe Draco wasn't so bad after all. 

-x-


	3. A Favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long. I've been trying to update on a schedule, every Monday at some point. But with the holiday last week, I completely forgot. Anyways, here's the next update.

_Three Weeks Later ___

__Harry sat at the table, a partially singed Daily Prophet in front of him as he sipped his tea. Once again, there had been an article about who Harry might would bring to the Anniversary Ball. That article had been amusing but the article several pages in had pushed his anger a little too far and the paper was on fire before he had even noticed it. Articles about him were common enough, but every once in a while reporters liked to bring up the past. They especially loved bringing up his relationship with Sirius and those articles made him want to tear down the Prophet office’s brick by brick. He was halfway through a decent revenge daydream when the Floo sparked to life. Expecting Ron or Hermione, he was shocked to see Draco stumble out of the Floo. He cursed, patting down his sleeve that had caught fire, and turned his attention to the room. “Oh,” he said when he saw Harry at the table. “Hi.”_ _

__“Morning,” Harry said with a gleeful smile. “Tea?”_ _

__Draco watched as Harry stood up and refilled his mug before grabbing another mug for him. He wondered if anything actually phased him, because he acted as though his once sworn nemesis entering his Floo uninvited was commonplace. “Thanks,” he said as he sat opposite the table and sipped the hot drink. Harry had remembered how he liked his tea and something squirmed in his belly at the realization. “I need a favor.”_ _

__“Do you?” Harry took his seat again and looked directly into Draco’s eyes. “Don’t you technically owe me? Twice if I’m not mistaken.”_ _

__“You should stop saving people,” Draco replied._ _

__“So they keep telling me,” Harry muttered. “What’s the favor?”_ _

__Draco sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Harry noticed that he wore it long, almost to his shoulders. He didn’t look too well either, with dark circles under his eyes and even paler skin than normal. “My parole hearing is tomorrow morning. I’ve tried everyone I can think of, but no one will speak for me as a character witness.”_ _

__Harry took a deep drink of his tea and tapped his fingers against the cup. He’d read in the paper that the five year anniversary also meant that all underage wizards and witches on parole were to be reevaluated. If it was found that they were still doing illegal activity, or that they hadn’t become the perfect model citizens they were supposed to be, then they could be sent to Azkaban. Harry hadn’t agreed to the strictness of the policy because of situations like this, where those who were on parole needed a prominent and respected person to speak on their behalf. “Have the rest of the Slytherin’s found character witnesses?”_ _

__“Why? Would you be willing to speak for them?” Harry shrugged in a noncommittal way. “Yes, they have. It was easier for them because…”_ _

__He stopped quickly but Harry knew what he was going to say, “Because they weren’t Marked.” Draco nodded, his hand rubbing over his left arm in a gesture that Harry remembered seeing Snape do. He knew now that it was a gesture of distaste, of wishing away the one great mistake they had made in their lives. “Is it still dark?”_ _

__“Are you asking to see it?” Draco’s eyes had shot up and never wavered from the shockingly green ones that met his._ _

__“Only if you feel comfortable showing it,” Harry replied. “But it doesn’t matter right now. I’ll speak for you.” Draco opened his mouth to reply but Harry’s next words stopped him. “But I need something from you in return.”_ _

__Draco nodded. He would probably do anything Harry asked because he had no other options. “Name your price.”_ _

__“Go to the Anniversary Ball with me.”_ _

__Draco sputtered, choking on the tea he had just sipped. “Are you mad?”_ _

__“Probably, if you believe the Prophet.”_ _

__“No one who knows the truth believes that gossip rag,” Draco snapped, “but that still begs the question on why the bloody hell you’d ever want me to go with you.”_ _

__Harry shrugged and calmly sipped what was left of his tea. “Well, the first reason is that I’d probably give half of the Prophet a heart attack the minute we step through the doors. And of course, if I’m going to speak for you at the hearing then it would be helpful for them to actually see us getting along. But also…because I think it would be fun.”_ _

__“Fun for whom?” Draco shook his head, “Those bloody Gryffindors will kill me the moment I step through the door.”_ _

__“They’d have to go through me,” Harry said fiercely, “and no one would attempt that.”_ _

__Draco had a moment to see the truth behind some of the rumors floating around about Harry. He’d once chalked it all up to exaggeration, but looking into Harry’s eyes now, he knew…Harry was scary. Draco could feel the magic, the power, flowing through the air around Harry. He could feel it reach out and taste him, determining if he was friend or foe. It felt…intoxicating to be that close to that kind of power. A power that was terrifying, but remarkable in a way that Voldemort’s had never been. “You’d stand up to your friends for me?”_ _

__Harry shrugged again as if to convey that it wasn’t a big deal. “Mostly they would have more manners than to start a brawl in the middle of the Ball.”_ _

__“Even the Weasel?”_ _

__“Hermione has done wonders for his temper and don’t call him that.” Harry leaned back in his chair so that it teetered on two legs and Draco had to admit that the man in front of him emitted a kind of casual handsomeness that couldn’t be replicated. “Besides, don’t you want to get back into regular life?”_ _

__Draco did and he wondered how Harry had come to that conclusion. It wasn’t like they were friends, or had even talked before the attack. “I don’t see how going to the Anniversary Ball with you will help that.”_ _

__Harry smirked, “I could list all the ways that being seen with me is going to improve your image, but to be honest, it’s probably going to be hard. The Prophet will probably print stories about you corrupting me or forcing me into becoming the next Dark Lord. Most people will probably think we are sleeping together and the rest will think I’ve finally gone around the bend. The press will follow you everywhere and you’ll be the subject of gossip and slander. But then…they’ll get used to you and eventually the stories will die down and become amusing, mostly.”_ _

__“If I go,” Draco said carefully, “what makes you so sure that you’d have fun with me?”_ _

__Harry leaned forward, righting his chair on the floor, and locking eyes with Draco. “You are different,” he said in a tone that was almost close to a whisper. “You understand.”_ _

__He didn’t go into more detail but Draco didn’t need him to. He did understand. He understood the nightmares, the fear, the guilt. He had known, despite the different sides they were on, what it had meant to be manipulated and used. “I’ll go,” he found himself saying._ _

__Harry smiled brightly and Draco, for only a moment, had the fleeting thought that his smile was enough reward for saying yes._ _

__-X-_ _


	4. Parole Hearing

Draco fidgeted in his chair. Harry was late! Or maybe, it had all been a game to him. Maybe he had asked the most ridiculous thing he could think of so that Draco would say yes and he would be able to taunt him, as well as get him thrown in prison. The door creaked open and two people entered the room. He knew the first, Augustus Marks, the Auror assigned to Draco’s parole. The second he didn’t recognize, but the robes were a dead giveaway for a lawyer. “No one to speak for you then,” Augustus asked as he took a seat?

Draco opened his mouth, clearly ready to tell the man to fuck off, when the door flung open. “Sorry,” Harry said as he stumbled into the room. His Auror robes were askew, his hair sticking up in every direction, and there was a gash over his left eyebrow. “I apologize for my tardiness. I had a bit of a problem with my prisoner this morning.”

Draco rolled his eyes before he stood to greet Harry, the man certainly knew how to make the most of an entrance. He held his hand out, which Harry shook. “Want me to heal that?”

Harry looked confused for a moment, so Draco reached up and pressed a finger into the cut. The finger came back stained with blood and both of them stared at the dark red liquid. “Yes, thank you.” Harry held out his wand, “I’m sure they took yours when you got here.”

Draco nodded and took the wand, careful to make sure the other two in the room couldn’t see his hand shake. It was a great trust that another wizard would hand over his wand so casually and he wondered if Harry did that for show or if he simply didn’t understand the magnitude of the gesture. Another voice, one in the back of his head, debated that maybe he did understand and he simply trusted Draco, but Draco forced that one down. Harry noticed Draco’s shaking hand and he gave Draco the smallest smile to reassure him. Draco waved the wand, muttering the healing spell, and watched as the gash knitted together. He handed back the wand and turned, taking his seat. “Mr. Potter has offered to speak for me.”

Augustus and the lawyer both looked over at Harry, who was conjuring a chair and settled beside Draco. “Mr. Potter…has Mr. Malfoy in some way threatened you into coming today?”

“Of course not,” Harry answered the lawyer. “I offered to speak for him on my own free will.”

Augustus looked shocked and his eyes bounced from Harry to Draco and back again. “You can’t…what I mean…as an Auror…”

“You’ll find that I can,” Harry responded. “I’ve made sure Kingsley…I mean Minister Shacklebolt, was told about my statement here. Now, should we get started?”

Draco kept his face blank but inside he was downright giddy. The less than subtle name drop was a brilliant way to remind the two men just who they sat in front of, if it was even possible for them for forget. He kept his eyes on Augustus and resisted the impulse to stick his tongue out at him. “Mr. Malfoy, have you been to see your father since his incarceration?”

The question caught him off guard but years of pureblood training helped keep his face blank. “No.”

“Excuse me,” Harry interrupted, “but on what precedent does that question apply to the reason we are here?” Both the lawyer and Augustus turned their heads sharply at the question. “What I mean is, there is nothing that says you are allowed to question Mr. Malfoy about anything except for that which pertains to his parole. And it is neither against the law or his parole for him to visit his father, or receive or send letters which I’m assuming would have been your next question.”

“We are attempting to determine if Mr. Malfoy is still involved with dark witches or wizards, which is a violation of his parole,” Augustus answered. 

Harry nodded, “But that was not the question you posed to Mr. Malfoy, was it? Despite Lucius’ reputation, his is still Mr. Malfoy’s father and therefore exempt from direct questioning about their correspondence, if they exist.”

“He is right,” the lawyer sighed. “You’ll have to choose a different question Augustus.”

Augustus glared at Harry but thought better of directly saying anything to him. “Have you had any contact with a dark witch or wizard?”

“I suppose that depends on your definition of a dark witch or wizard,” Draco responded.

“Have you had any correspondence with a witch or wizard in which you speak of acts of dark magic,” August asked through his teeth?

“Nope,” Draco responded. Normally he would have been a bit more respectful but Harry beside him gave him the courage to stand up a bit for himself against someone who obviously held hatred for him.

Augustus went red in the face at his response, “Have you gained employment?”

“I’ve been studying,” Draco responded.

“With whom and what branch of magic?”

“Potions and with myself.” Draco wouldn’t admit to this man that no Potions Master would let him study under him. “Theoretically of course, as I’m not permitted to brew anything yet.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up at that response but he didn’t stay anything. “Mr. Potter,” Augustus turned his attention to Harry, “Would you please state for the record your name and your character witness statement?”

“Of course. My name is Harry James Potter and I hereby give my statement to the character of one Draco Malfoy by my own free will and under no curses or potions.” A bright blue light surrounded Harry but he ignored it and continued, “I spoke for Draco Malfoy during his trial five years ago. Although I do not deny that Draco committed crimes under the orders of Lord Voldemort,” Draco noticed the both the lawyer and Augustus flinched at the name, “I testified on his behalf during the trial that he had been in fear of his life and the life of his mother’s when he was given the task of helping the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and eliminating Professor Dumbledore.” Harry took a minute to take a breath and Draco watched the two across from them. It was obvious that the lawyer had never been in the presence of Harry by the wide eyes and the slightly adoring expression he had while he listened. But Augustus, who probably did see Harry on the rare occasion they crossed paths in the Auror’s office, did not look adoring. He looked furious and Draco could see the clenching of his fist below the table. “I do not believe that Draco Malfoy took the Dark Mark willingly, nor did he ever intend to or had the desire to kill Professor Dumbledore. In the years after the war, Draco Malfoy has kept mostly to himself. He has been studying theoretical potions and taking care of his mother. He has offered freedom to all his house elves, however they chose to remain with him. When we talk about the war, I have gathered more and more about the situation under which Draco was placed and have come to conclusion that he is a victim of the war. Forced to take the Dark Mark and follow orders for fear of his mother’s and his own life, held prisoner in a house filled with Death Eaters and Voldemort, with only the smallest of hopes that somewhere along the way he might be able to leave it all behind him. Of course, I don’t think that Draco will ever fully be able to leave behind the horrors he was forced to watch or the terror that must have seeped into every aspect of his being while living under the same roof as Voldemort, but he deserves the chance to atone for his mistakes and start a new chapter of his life.” As Harry finished, the blue light pulsed around him and then disappeared. 

Augustus stood, wand raised at Harry. “How dare you?”

“Mr. Marks,” the lawyer yelled in disgust.

Harry simply smiled and waved his hand. Ropes sprung out of the air and circled Augustus’ feet, forcing him to the ground. His wand flew out of his hand and was instantly in Harry’s. “You should know better than to raise your wand to me Augustus,” Harry sneered and then turned to the lawyer. “Mr. Augustus Marks will be removed from this case for this incident, correct?” The lawyer simply nodded, staring at Harry as if he’d grown a second head. “Please escort him outside and bring in his replacement.”

The lawyer nodded, flicking his wand so that additional ropes circled Augustus’ wrist and lead him out the door. Draco turned to Harry, who was playing with the wand in his hand. “How did you know you’d need to replace him?”

“Augustus has a nasty temper and a prejudice against anyone he considers ‘dark’. He once told Kingsley that I should be forced to do paperwork because my magic was too powerful and couldn’t be contained. Listen, I had to pull a lot of favors to get your replacement so I need you to be less cheeky with this one.”

“Sure thing Potter,” Draco winked. Interestingly enough, Harry flushed and turned back to the now opening door. Draco filed that reaction away for later and he too focused on the door. To his utter surprise, the Minister of Magic appeared behind the lawyer. “Minister,” Draco said as he stood quickly and bowed. 

Harry to stood and bowed, both of them waiting until the Minister and the lawyer sat down before resuming their seats. “I apologize for attacking a fellow Auror.”

“I was informed by Michelson that he drew his wand first and within violations of this hearing. Mr. Malfoy, due to your character witness being our lead Auror, we felt it was best that I take over your parole. As requested by Mr. Potter, I have brought the initial parole rules set down by the Wizengamot.” He held out the file and passed it over to Harry. “Harry has requested to be your advisor, as well as your character witness, for the remainder of these proceedings. Do you consent to that request?”

“I do,” Draco responded. He didn’t know what an advisor was, he hadn’t bothered to study Wizarding Law because he knew no one would care anyways if he was being mistreated. Seemed someone cared and he couldn’t help but look over at Harry. 

Harry was flipping through the file silently as all three of the men in the room watched him. “Right, I’ve already given my character statement. Is there anything else needed before we begin speaking about the perimeters of Mr. Malfoy’s parole?”

Kingsley shook his head, “Please begin.”

“First, Draco Malfoy was underage at the time of his only crimes that were witnessed. The additional crimes of torture and plotting against the Ministry had no valid proof during the trial or now. They should be be removed from his record.”

“Agreed,” Minister Shacklebolt said.

Harry nodded and resumed look at the file before speaking again. “Due to the extreme emotions following the war, some of the restrictions on Mr. Malfoy are more severe than should have been allowed, given his age and his crimes. His use of the Unforgivable on Madame Rosmerta and Katie Bell resulted in two people being wounded, but neither victim was killed. His crime of assisting in allowing Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts and the death of Professor Dumbledore was treated as a violent crime, although Mr. Malfoy did not throw a single curse other than the Expelliarmus that disarmed Professor Dumbledore.”

“Which restrictions do you feel are unfair in Mr. Malfoy’s parole?” This time Michelson asked the question as another file appeared in front of him. 

“Item 15, subsection D which states that the parolee cannot attack another person, muggle or magical, in anyway. The wording of this implies that attacks in self-defense are prohibited which could force Mr. Malfoy to be unable to defend himself against unwanted attacks and lead to certain injury or death of the parolee.”

Michelson nodded, “The verbiage is incorrect in this case. I have changed item 15, subsection D to now state that the parolee cannot attack another person, magical or muggle, unless the parolee fears for his life and wellbeing or the life and wellbeing of another.”

Harry nodded, “Item 29, subsection B states that Mr. Malfoy is banned from brewing or purchasing potions ingredients. However, Mr. Malfoy has expressed an interest in furthering his study in potions. I ask that we amend this item so that if Mr. Malfoy can find a Potions Master willing to offer him training, he can access all needed potions and ingredients under that Master’s teachings. By the time Mr. Malfoy finishes his mastery, it will be five years and his parole will have ended.”

Michelson looked toward Kingsley, “In this instance, you must approve of this change Minister.”

Kingsley’s eyes roamed over Draco and then back to Harry, “I approve.”

Harry smiled at them both and then at Draco, “That is all then.” Draco stayed silent as Michelson had him sign his new parole agreement and as Harry ushered him out of the Ministry and into the London streets. “I’m….”

“Thank you,” Draco said quickly and flushed to realize he’d interrupt Harry. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I was pretty sure you were going to be mad at me for overstepping. After all, I did send my elf to speak with yours.”

Draco nodded, “I did wonder how you knew that much. I appreciate what you’ve done, but I’m never going to find a Potions Master to teach me.”

“Never say never,” Harry said cryptically. “See you tomorrow, be at mine by seven yeah?” Harry didn’t wait for Draco’s response, simply turning on the spot and Apparating away with a pop. Draco shook his head and wondered what exactly he’d gotten himself into.

-x-


	5. The Anniversary Ball

Draco stepped out of the Floo and into the flat he’d previously visited, only to find a rather old elf staring at him. The minute he met the eyes of the elf, the elf broke into a deep bow with his nose touching the floor. “Kreacher is being happy to serve Master Malfoy, heir to the Black family.”

“The Black…my mother’s family?”

“Yes sir,” Kreacher responded in what Draco supposed was happiness. The elf was now giving him what Draco supposed was a smile but merely made him feel uneasy. “Master Potter is requesting Master Malfoy’s presences in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Please come along.”

Draco wanted to ask more questions, but the elf seized his wrist. Draco blinked as they landed in a parlor room. The room was clean but dark. “Where are we?”

“Grimmauld Place,” a voice responded and Draco looked up. Harry descended down the stairs and smiled, “welcome.”

Draco took a moment to fully appreciate the magnitude that was Harry Potter. He’d seen pictures of Harry dressed up, but never in person. It was almost unreal to see the normally casual and slightly unkept look that Harry had repressed in favor of a more traditional look. He was wearing deep green wizarding robes that were almost black. His hair was artfully style, still messy but now with an air that it’d been done on purpose. His glasses were gone and the bright green of his eyes seemed to reflect all the light in the room. He was…breathtaking. Draco flushed at the thought and looked away, focusing on the room around him. The elf was still standing close to him and looking up at him with the same odd smile. “I’m confused.”

“Kreacher, please leave Draco alone and run along. I think Gylda could use some supervision in the guest room.”

“Yes Master Potter,” Kreacher said without looking away from Draco. 

“Sorry about Kreacher,” Harry said, “he is thrilled to actually meet a Black heir. Unfortunately, I’m not the right pedigree even if I am the actual Black heir.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “How are you the Black heir?”

“Sirius willed everything to me,” Harry responded. “This was his family home. I keep the second flat when the memories become too much but most of the time I live here.”

“That would make you…”

“Very wealthy, yes I know.” Harry stepped a bit closer, “You clean up nice.”

Draco looked down at his navy robes simply to give him something to look at other than Harry, “Thanks.” 

“So, you ready to do this?”

“Not in the slightest,” Draco admitted. 

Harry smiled and Draco wondered when exactly he’d gotten so close or why his closeness made his stomach flip. “Don’t worry,” Harry whispered as he offered Draco his arm, “I’ll protect you.” Harry’s small chuckle was drowned out as they Apparated away.

-x-

Music flowed through the Atrium as they stepped out of the fireplace. Draco stepped away from Harry quickly and tried his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. Harry smiled brightly, “Here we go.”

Draco followed Harry down the Atrium and towards the crowd. Tables were set up to the far right of the Atrium for guests who wished to sit and converse, waiters weaved through the crowds with plates full of food and drinks, and a large dance floor sat below a stage that current housed a band. “Who’s bloody idea was it to have this in the Ministry?”

“Hogwarts was the other choice but we all voted against it,” Harry responded. 

Draco looked over at Harry, “Have you been back? Since the war?”

“No,” Harry whispered, “and we’ve got company.” 

A large group of reporters and photographers were standing at the very edge of the ball, clearly ready to pounce on those who entered. It only took them a second to recognize Harry and they were suddenly both surrounded by the clicking of cameras. “Mr. Potter, did you arrive with him?”

“Harry…rumor on the street is that you’ve taken another lover. Is Mr. Malfoy that lover?”

“Mr. Potter, any comment on the current whereabouts…”

The various questions seemed to abruptly stop and Draco looked to see that Harry’s wand was out. He must have cast a silencing charm. “I’d like to thank everyone who has attended tonight and hope that we all have a wonderful time.” He stepped forward, easily parting the crowd, and Draco followed behind. He could see that Harry was heading towards the right of the stage and the several heads of red hair made it obvious that the press was only the start of their evening. “Hermione,” he beamed and held his arms out to embrace her.

“Oh Harry, you can’t do anything normal, can you?” She cast a disapproving stare at Draco, “This will be all over the papers tomorrow.”

Harry shrugged but caught Draco’s eyes and winked. “Have I missed much?”

Whatever Hermione had been about to say was lost, “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

Ron’s voice was loud enough that several people turned to stare, including the assortment of ‘war heroes’ that stood with him. Draco recognized Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood right away and cringed to see that most of them had reached for their wands. “I’ve invited him,” Harry replied. 

“You’ve lost it mate,” Seamus whispered as he apparently had a bit more tact than Ron. 

Dean nodded, “He’s a Death Eater.”

“He is a reformed Death Eater,” Harry pointed out, “and my guest.”

Ron opened his mouth but it snapped closed at the sound of a voice behind Draco. “Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco turned slowly at the deep voice of the Minister. “Minister,” he said with a bow. 

“Good to see you again Mr. Malfoy,” he smiled at Harry, “and you too Harry. Pleased to see you at an event.”

“Yes sir,” Harry nodded. Draco stared at the Minister’s back before turning towards Harry. The little gleam in his eyes told Draco that this little meeting had been preplanned. Harry turned back towards his friend, “So…what’s new?”

Draco hung back behind Harry, listening as the group talked. Occasionally one or two of Harry’s friends would look over, Draco imagined that they expected him to start insulting someone, and only Ron glared at him with unwavering hatred. Draco wasn’t sure how long he stood listening to the chatter before someone tapped his shoulder. He turned, his wand carefully tucked in a holster on his arm. “Draco!” A pair of arms circled his neck and a flowery smell assaulted his nose. He looked over to see Harry staring at him with a blank look on his face. 

Draco pulled away from the girl and stepped back to get a good look. Fuck. “Astoria, good evening.”

“I hadn’t expected to see you here,” Astoria responded.

“Nor had I intended to come, but I’m a guest.”

Astoria looked over at the group behind them, clearly paying attention to every word between the two of them. “Well, you simply must let me pull you away for a dance. I haven’t seen you in ages and there’s so much to talk about. Did you know that Daphne married?” Astoria grabbed his arm, leading him out to the dance floor and talking on and on. Draco barely payed attention, instead focused on the blank stare of Harry’s green eyes that followed him around the dance floor.

-x-

By the time Astoria had let him leave, Harry had disappeared. He searched around the edges of the crowd but saw no sign of him in the Artium. Knowing that it wasn’t possible for him to sneak away to the fireplaces, Draco edged his way out of the crowd and towards the lifts. He had a hunch on where Harry might have snuck off to and headed down the lifts to level nine. Once off the lift, he saw a single door ahead of him. He’d heard of the Department of Mysteries, both from his father and the papers, but he’d never been here before. He headed through the door and into a large circular room. Twelve doors branched off, but only one was open. Draco followed through the open door and into a large rectangular room. The middle of the room was sunk in and an archway stood on a raised dias in the middle. Benches lined the steps down to the center and Harry sat halfway down. Draco headed down the steps and sat next to him. “How did you find me?”

“I don’t know, I only wondered where you might go to get some privacy.”

Harry lifted a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhisky and took a gulp. He passed the bottle to Draco who took a much smaller sip of the drink. “My godfather died, right there.” He pointed over to the arch. A tattered black curtain fluttered and faint whispering voices could be heard. “I’ve asked, about a million times, what the hell it is, but no one will answer me.”

“The Veil,” Draco whispered. Harry turned towards him, “My father knew a lot about the Ministry, a lot more than most people thought he did.”

Harry took the bottle and another deep swig, “What do you know about it?”

“Unspeakables research some of the oldest magic in the world; time, love, space, death, etc. Mostly theoretical, my father used to say that all Unspeakables did was sit around and discuss theory. This is the Death Chamber and the Veil is entryway to the other side.”

“Other side?”

“Wherever it is we go after death,” Draco answered. “Ghosts are witches or wizards who choose before their death not to pass on. The Veil leads to the world you go to when you chose to pass on.”

Harry leaned back against the bench, “When I died, I went to this place. It looked like Kings Cross, only there were no trains. It was bright and only Dumbledore was there.”

“Mostly likely, given the way you died, it was a…limbo if you will. A place between this world and the world of the dead.” Draco took another swig, this time a large one like Harry’s. “What did Dumbledore say?”

“Riddles, as usual,” Harry replied. “He said that I had a choice.”

“You chose to come back?”

Harry nodded, “Do you know of the Deathly Hallows?”

Draco shifted on the bench so that he was able to face Harry. “I know the rumors.”

“They aren’t rumors,” Harry whispered. “They are real.”

“Impossible,” Draco breathed out.

Harry smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What I’m going to tell you, only two other people know about. There have been rumors and guesses and theories, but no one except for myself, Hermione and Ron know the truth.” Draco didn’t speak but he nodded in acknowledgement. He knew the kind of trust Harry was placing in him, but after all that Harry had done for him already, he would never betray it. “Voldemort had seven Horcruxes. Horcruxes are like…containers for pieces of a person’s soul. When you murder someone, it splits the soul and with a bit of dark magic, you can force the part of your soul that splits off into the Horcrux. Then, if something were to happen to your body, you would still live. Which is how Voldemort was able to survive when his curse rebounded.”

“Why did it fail? Do you know?”

“My mother gave her life to save mine,” Harry answered. “Snape had overheard the prophecy being told to Dumbledore, but not all of it. He told Voldemort but didn’t expect for him to decide that I was the one the prophecy spoke about. There was another boy, another option, but Voldemort decided I was the one who needed to die. So Snape, who had loved my mother since they were children, told Dumbledore what Voldemort’s plans were in exchange for swearing allegiance to Dumbledore. He asked that Dumbledore hide my parents, which he did. Sirius was supposed to be the Secret Keeper but he thought that would be too obvious and suggest they choose Peter, who betrayed them. Snape must have begged Voldemort for my mother’s life because he told her to step aside and he would spare her, but she refused and sacrificed her life for mine. Dumbledore said that her love and her sacrifice created a barrier that protected me and forced the curse back on Voldemort.”

Draco exhaled and passed the bottle over so that Harry could take another swig. “You don’t have to tell me this.”

“I have to tell someone,” Harry whispered. “Someone who understands. Ron and Hermione, they went through the war and they know pain…but they can’t understand what it is like to have your entire future decided for you. To know that after seven years of pain and suffering and anger, in the end you were only a weapon. Only a tool.”

“So…the curse failed,” Draco said. “And the Horcrux kept him alive.”

Harry nodded and passed the bottle back. “So, the diary that your father had was one. An imprint of Voldemort’s soul from school, using his birth name Tom Riddle, possessed Ginny and opened the Chamber. Then he lured me down into the Chamber in the hopes that that snake would finish me off. But I stabbed the diary with a fang and destroyed it. It wasn’t until sixth year that Dumbledore told me what the diary was or how many of them Voldemort had.”

“He had more than one?”

“Seven,” Harry said. “He had seven. I had destroyed the diary and Dumbledore had found a ring that belonged to Riddle’s grandfather. That was where we were that night, the night on the Astronomy Tower, we had just found another. Except, it was a fake. Regardless, Dumbledore had spent all sixth year preparing me for what I was to do, to find all the Horcruxes so that Voldemort could be killed.”

Draco frowned, “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Wish I were,” Harry said. “So when Ron, Hermione, and I figured the locket was a fake, we knew that we wouldn’t be coming back to Hogwarts. We had to find them and so that was what we were doing while we were missing. For a while, we were lost. Dumbledore had only left me with one clue, that the Horcruxes were likely to be important to Voldemort, either family heirlooms or something connected to the Founder’s. But it wasn’t an easy task and in the middle of searching for them, we found another clue from Dumbledore.”

“Man liked his riddles, didn’t he?”

Harry giggled, “Indeed. He lead us back to Godric’s Hallow and that lead us to Xenophilius Lovegood who explained what the Deathly Hallows were. Three magical objects; the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak.”

“I’ve heard of the wand of power,” Draco passed the now half empty bottle to Harry, “but Invisibility cloaks are rare but not that rare.”

“Most of them have charms cast to them, which wear off after time. My Invisibility cloak belonged to my father, which belonged to his father, and down the line until you get to the three brother.”

“As in the Tale of Three Brothers, the children’s story?”

Harry nodded, “The very same. Apparently, they are my ancestors. Anyways, there are some who felt that the story was real enough that they searched for them. The Elder wand had the most history, with tells of wizards who claimed to have the most powerful wand in the world. And Dumbledore had once set out to find and reunite all the Hallows.”

“So you owned one, the cloak?”

“Yes, Dumbledore returned it to me during my first year. The wand belonged to Dumbledore and thus, when you disarmed him…”

“I owned the Elder wand,” Draco whispered as though all the breath had left him. 

Harry nodded and passed the bottle, “Right up until I disarmed you in the Manor. Voldemort didn’t know and assumed that Dumbledore had died with ownership of the wand. So he broke into his tomb and took it, but it wouldn’t work right for him. He assumed then that Snape must be the owner and killed him to take control of the wand. But you were the owner and then I disarmed you, which meant that I was the rightful owner of the wand. And when we faced each other, the wand resisted against Voldemort because it was loyal to me.”

Draco took a deep swig of the bottle, “What’s the third Hallow?”

“The stone,” Harry breathed. He reached into his pocket and produced a Golden Snitch. Pressing his lips to the metal, the Snitch opened and he lifted the stone out. 

Draco held his breath but nothing seemed to happen. “How does it work?”

“You have to turn it three times in your hand while thinking of the person or people that you wish to see,” Harry settled the stone back into the Snitch and pressed his lips to close it before settling it back in his pocket. “I used it right before I faced to see Voldemort in the forest.”

“Your parents?”

“And Remus…and Sirius.” Harry’s eyes traveled back to the Veil. “I knew that I was going to die at that moment, without knowing that I would be able to come back. It…helped me step through the forest to meet my death, knowing they were with me. Knowing they were waiting for me to join them. Sometimes…I…” Harry’s words were cut off with a choke and he took another deep swig. Draco waited, resisting the urge to touch Harry. Harry shook his head, “Anyways, they were all very real. And when I died, I knew that if I didn’t go back, Voldemort would control that wand.”

Draco exhaled and leaned back against the bench to face the Veil. “How did he die?”

“He fell through,” Harry whispered. “One minute he was there and the next Bellatrix cursed him and he fell through. Remus stopped me from following him but I keep coming back…wondering what would happen if I just went through. Wondering if I could bring him back.”

“You can’t,” Draco whispered, “nothing can bring back the dead.”

“I know,” Harry said. “But it’s…there is a hole. My parents, I miss them every day. But I never knew them. I hadn’t seen their faces in the flesh, hadn’t heard them laugh or hugged them. I knew that I would never have a life with them, telling them about my life and listening to them retell stories of their youth. I could have had that with Sirius…if I hadn’t been so fucking stupid.”

Draco turned to face him, “It isn’t your fault he is dead.”

“It is,” Harry whispered. “I knew that my mind was connected to Voldemort’s and Hermione tried to warn me that I could have been a trap. But I came anyways and he came to save me.” Draco didn’t say anything because no amount of words could ever ease that feeling inside of Harry. Instead, they sat in silence and passed the bottle until it was empty. “Why did you come find me? You seemed to be having a good time with Astoria.”

Draco laughed, “You’re joking, right? I’ve gone deaf in one ear from all her incessant chattering.”

“She’s pretty,” he said.

Draco shrugged, “I suppose.”

Harry turned to look at Draco, his lips parting to whisper something, when a voice yelled through the room. “Oi, you two…what do you think you are doing here?”

Draco and Harry looked up at the Unspeakable before standing up, a bit shakily, and heading out of the room before he could catch them. They ended up back in the Atrium, breathless and laughing. Harry could barely breath, leaning against Draco as they skidded to stop outside of the lift. The room was spinning and the amount of alcohol they’d consumes hit them instantly. He looked up and giggled, “I think we are in trouble.”

Hermione was heading towards them with Ron on her heels. “Where have you two been? Oh never mind that now, the ceremony is starting.”

“Umm…Mione? I think these two are pissed.”

Draco held up his fingers, “Just a little bit.”

His words were slurred and Harry started to laugh again. “Oh.”

Ron groaned, “You go and stall some. I will take these two up to the office, I’ve got some sobering potions for prisoners up there.” Ron looped his arm around Harry, who looped his arm around Draco, and they hobbled back into the lift. “What the hell were you thinking Harry?”

“Hey…he’s…sad.” Draco puffed up, “Leave him alone.”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, “sad.”

Ron glared at Draco but said nothing as the got off the lift. He lead them Harry and his office and sat them on the couch. “Behave and I’ll be right back.” 

“This is your office,” Draco glances around with wide eyes.

Harry nodded, falling sideways on the couch with his head on Draco’s shoulder, “I hate it.”

“The office,” Draco asked? “It’s nice office…”

“Being an Auror,” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear. Draco shuddered at the feeling. “Feels like…I’m trapped. Stuck. Bored.”

The door banged back open and Ron stepped back into the room. “Right, here you two go.” He uncorked both bottles and handed one to each of them. They downed them in one shot and looked up at Ron. “Wait for it…there it is.”

Each one of them looked pale and grimaced at the sound of Ron’s voice. “Here’s the hangover potion,” he said as he handed over the bottles. “Now, you wanna explain this Harry?”

“Not particularly,” he replied. 

Draco looked between Harry and Ron, clearly seeing that Harry had no desire to tell his best friend about his visit to the Veil. “I was freaking out…about all the people staring and talking about me. Harry found me and I convinced him to have a drink with me.”

Ron turned his stare to Draco, “If you were so concerned about the way people would look at you, why did you show up here? No one wants you here.”

“I want him here,” Harry stood up. “I know that you aren’t going to forgive him overnight Ron, but you should trust my judgement enough to know that I wouldn’t have brought him if he was the same person he was in school. None of us are the same people we were in school.”

“Because we went through a war,” Ron hissed out, “and it was in his house that Hermione was tortured.”

“Do you think I wanted that?” Draco yelled and crossed his arms around his chest. “Do you think it was pleasant watching her scream? I was a right pain in the ass and I did some pretty fucking awful things, but watching her be tortured still haunts me. You heard it, right, the scream and the pleading? But you didn’t see it…you didn’t have to watch her and know that there was nothing you could do to stop it. Because if I had stopped it, my father would have killed me in a second. Only if my dear Aunt Bella didn’t decided to torture me next.” Draco was breathing heavily by the time he finished speaking and it was clear by his panicked expression that he hadn’t meant to say all that he had. “I’ve got to get home,” he turned to Harry, “thank you for inviting me.”

“Draco…”

“It’s fine,” he whispered, “I’ll see you later.” Draco stalked out the door and left Ron and Harry alone.


	6. Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it has taken me so long to get this next chapter up. There's been some work related stuff getting in the way. But we are all good now and the schedule of weekly updates should return. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

Draco had spent the next few days locked in his room. He ignored his mother’s attempts to talk with him and the pile of letters that had started arriving the morning after the ball. He hadn’t even looked at the paper, even though he was sure that he was in it. He simply laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. What the hell was he doing? He shouldn’t be hanging around Harry Potter, no matter what the man had done for him. And he certainly shouldn’t be sharing deep secrets with him like they were friends, especially since he had some secrets he certainly didn’t want Harry to know about. They had never been friends and he wasn’t sure why anything that happened should change that, despite the fact that he could no longer deny that he wanted it. A pop of a house-elf woke him from his thoughts, “Just leave it on the table.”

“Master Malfoy,” the elf spoke and Draco sat up in bed to look at him. Kreacher was standing in the middle of his room. “Master Potter requesting Kreacher to brings a message. He hopes you are feeling well and asks Master Malfoy to comes back to Grimmauld Place. He asks Kreacher to gives Master Malfoy this letter and to tells him he can Floo anytime.” Kreacher bowed and popped away.

Draco turned the letter over in his hand, debating on placing it on the stack of letters on his desk. He sighed, chalking it up to pure curiosity, and opened the letter. 

_Draco,_

_I hope that isn’t too informal, but I wasn’t quite sure how to start this letter. I hope you are doing well, although I haven’t seen or heard from you since the Ball. I hope that Prophet didn’t bother you too much, I did warn you that they would write some pretty awful things about you._

_I had a good talk with Ron and Hermione. I explained…well I guess not everything. But I told them about the attack. I’m surprised Luna hadn’t told Neville, who would have been sure to tell them, but it seems that Luna didn’t tell anyone. I hope you don’t mind, but I think they needed a little more explanation for my sudden interest in you. I'm not saying they understand or forgive you, but they both won't be hostile anymore._

_I wanted to apologize, for my actions that night. I shouldn’t have left you alone at the Ball, but you seemed pretty happy with Astoria and I thought everything would be all right. I also want to apologize for unloading my issues out on you, but I thank you for listening. I wasn’t lying when I said that you are different. You understand pain and suffering in a different way than everyone else does. I think you understand me in a different way. I had hoped that we would have a chance to talk more at the Ball, but our drunken escapade ruined that. I’m sure that Kreacher very nearly fell over himself to let you know that you’ve been invited to lunch with me at Grimmauld Place. If not for my sake, at least come for the poor elf’s. He’s been cooking all day for the “most regal and noble Master Malfoy” and I’m quite sure he’s been humming. It might break his poor heart if you refuse and even you aren’t that cold, are you?_

_I hope to see you soon._

_Harry_

Draco read the letter again and found himself smiling. He had his reservations about this…thing between him and Harry, but he couldn’t help but want it. He wanted to get to know the man that Harry had become, to dig beneath the surface and find out who he was. He wanted to share with him things that he hadn’t told anyone else, things he was sure only Harry would understand. He showered and dressed quickly before heading downstairs. “I’m going out,” he said to his mother as he walked into the parlor.

“Good,” she responded without looking up from her book, “I had almost come to the conclusion that you’d died in there. Melancholy really doesn't suit you dear”

He knelt down to kiss her cheek, “I’ll promise to explain everything soon.”

“I know darling,” she said as Draco rushed out of the room. “Tell Mr. Potter I said hello.”

Draco didn’t acknowledge that he’d heard her, he knew better than to give her more ammunition against him. Instead, he grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. “Grimmauld Place,” he shouted. 

Images flashed past before Draco came to a stop. He stepped out of the fire, more gracefully than he had the last time he’d visited Harry, and was only slightly disappointed to see that Harry wasn’t waiting from him. Draco looked around the room, wondering if he should call out, when a pop sounded and another tiny elf appeared in front of him. Dressed in a frilly pink dress, the tiny elf curtsied and smiled up at Draco. “Welcome to Grimmauld Place.”

Another pop sounded and Kreacher appeared beside the tiny elf. He bowed again, with his nose touching the floor, “Welcome back Master Malfoy. Kreacher is being pleased to see you again.”

“Thank you Kreacher,” Draco said, “for the invitation. Is Harry here?”

“Master Harry is in the gym, Kreacher wills escort you.”

“Kreacher has foods to prepare,” the tiny elf said in a loud whisper. 

Draco smirked, only Harry would have elves this odd. “Kreacher, please go back to your preparations, I’m sure…” he looked down at the little elf. 

“Daisy sir.”

“I’m sure that Daisy can show me to Harry. After all, I’m looking forward to lunch and I would hate to keep you from it.”

“Master Malfoy is kind,” Kreacher said with another bow and then he was gone.

Daisy held out her hand and Draco accepted it. Kreacher seemed to be a normal elf but Daisy was anything but. “Harry is in the gym,” Daisy said, “we’ll go this way.” Draco let Daisy lead him by the hand past the stairs and down a corridor. Daisy stopped in front of the room at the end and went to raise her hand to knock. 

Draco stopped her, “If you don’t mind Daisy, I think I’ll surprise him.”

“Of course Master Malfoy…”

“Call me Draco, if you’d like.”

“I like you Draco,” she pronounced and then she was gone. 

Draco shook his head at the behavior of the odd little elf and stepped towards the door. He turned the knob and quietly opened the door a fraction. The room had dark stone walls and was lit by a large fireplace at the south wall. Despite the massive fireplace, the room itself was cold. He could make out some bookcases along the wall and various trunks around the room. But his focus shifted when movement caught his eyes. Harry was in the corner of the room, facing away from the door. Draco silently pushed the door open a bit further to get a better look at whatever he was doing. There was a red bag hanging from the ceiling and Harry was standing in front of it. His hands were in some sort of glove and he was alternating between punching and kicking the bag. His body moved fluidly, contorting so that each hit landed with minimal effort and maximum force. With only a pair of black trousers, Draco watched mesmerized as the muscles in his back rippled with each movement. “Potter,” he said as he stepped fully into the room. 

Harry whirled around on his toes, his hands raised in front of his face. “You scared the bloody hell out of me Draco.”

“My apologies,” Draco said with a smirk, “Daisy let me in.”

Harry nodded and slipped off his gloves, reaching for a towel. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

“Well I would hate to be responsible for the heartbreak of your elf,” Draco leaned against the door frame. “Speaking of which, does Granger know you have elves?”

Harry laughed, “She does. You might have noticed, Daisy is a free elf and so is her mother Gylda. Kreacher refused freedom.” Harry threw his towel into a hamper, reached for a shirt and pulled it over his head. “You doing okay?”

“If you mean about whatever the Prophet has written, I haven’t read it yet. The amount of letters I’ve been getting must mean they wrote something interesting though.”

Harry shook his head, “I didn’t mean that. I meant because of what happened with Ron.”

Draco shrugged, “I suppose.”

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” Harry pointed out. 

“Nice way to tell a bloke he looks like hell.”

Harry frowned, “Diversion tactics won’t work with me, I’m an Auror remember?”

“Apparently one who hates his job,” Draco added, “or at least that’s what you said when you were pissed.”

“I’d hoped you would forget that.” Harry sighed, “Guess we’ve got some things to talk about.”

Draco shrugged, “Or we can eat lunch and have polite conversation, forget about all this sharing our life stories with each other, and go back to never seeing each other again.”

Harry stepped forward, “Is that what you want?” Draco didn’t answer. “I’ve told you, you understand me. Not only the war, I’ve got friends who went through the war. You understand…darkness.”

“I’m not dark, no matter the tattoo on my arm.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Harry pointed out. “But you understand it. You know what it’s like to be surrounded by it and forced to fight against it. You know what it tastes like, what it feels like…what is offers. You won’t flinch away if I tell you certain things.”

“The Golden Trio a little too golden for you?”

Harry laughed, “Something like that. Look, I want to be friends. No strings attached.”

Despite the list of reasons, that grew longer with every talk, that Draco shouldn’t be Harry’s friend, he found himself nodding. “Guess you should shower than, I won’t insult Kreacher by allowing you to eat in your current state.”

“Oh yeah, he’s gonna love you.”

-x-

Harry found Draco in the library, tracing the spines of the books. “Hi.” 

Draco looked up to a freshly showered, if still casually dressed, Harry. “Impressive library.”

“Most of it is left over from the Black family,” Harry said as he stepped into the room. “Hermione was ecstatic, apparently half the books in here have been banned.”

“If only she could see father’s collection,” Draco whispered. Harry raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. “So, does your oath as an Auror extend to friendly conversations?”

“I won’t repeat anything you tell me,” Harry said quickly. 

Draco nodded, picking a book off the shelf. “Why do you hate it?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m not sure actually. I did it mostly because it was what was expected, you know? The Chosen One, becoming a Dark Wizard catcher. But it’s rather boring.”

“Anything you do because it’s expected would be,” Draco took a seat in a comfortable brown chair. “Did you ever think about what it is you wanted to do?”

“Not really,” Harry answered. “I didn’t quite have time to plan my future. Moody…well I guess actually it was Barty Crouch Jr. mentioned off-hand that I would make a good Auror. When we went for career interviews, I mentioned the idea to McGonagall and Umbridge told me that I didn’t have the temperament or the skill to be one. I guess I wanted to set out to prove her wrong and McGonagall right.”

Draco shook his head, “Gryffindors, always trying to please other people. One of the first lessons we learn in Slytherin, always do things for yourself.”

“That’s pretty selfish,” Harry said. 

“Probably,” Draco agreed, “but there’s no downside to it.”

Kreacher appeared in the middle of the library with a pop, “Lunch is ready Master Malfoy and Master Potter.”

Daisy appeared a second later, “You is supposed to be waiting for me Kreacher.” She huffed, placing her tiny hands on her hips. “I escorts you Draco.”

“Shameful,” Kreacher hissed, “calling Master Malfoy by his first name.”

“I’ve asked her to,” Draco said, “but I appreciate your formality too Kreacher.”

“Kreacher knew Master Malfoy would,” the elf said, “Master Potter growing up with swine and never taught proper manners.”

Harry groaned even as Draco chuckled, “Kreacher…” he said in warning. “Let’s all go to the kitchen together.”


	7. The American

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but I'll make it up to you with a long chapter.

Draco had managed to avoid his mother for three days after his lunch with Potter, but she cornered him in the library on the fourth afternoon, “Explain.”

He sighed, leaning back in the overstuffed armchair he’d purchased. His mother had thrown a fit when he’d started replacing furniture but he had wanted comfort over the expensive but impractical furniture she was fond of. “Fine,” he groaned. “I’ve become friends with Harry.”

“Harry Potter?”

“Of course Harry Potter, do you know any other Harrys mother?”

Narcissa shot her son a disapproving glare, “Don’t be cheeky. I’m only curious how you’ve suddenly become friends with…what was it you called Mr. Potter? A puffed up, self-sacrificing Gryffindor with a hero complex and a bad scar?”

“Must you bring up every stupid thing I’ve ever said in my life?”

“It’s my job as your mother,” she replied. “So…care to explain how this all came about?”

Draco attempted to sink further into his comfortable chair. Maybe he’d get lucky and it would swallow him whole, a fate slight better than explaining his relationship with Harry to his mother. “I was attacked and Harry found me. I asked him not to take me to the hospital so he took me his flat and brought a healer friend to fix me right up. I had to stay under supervision and I didn’t want you to know about it, so I stayed at his house for the night. He heard a nightmare.”

Narcissa nodded slowly, “I suppose he understands that.” Draco raised an eyebrow, “Please Draco…I was there when the Dark Lord killed him. He walked right into the forest, knowing he’d die.”

“Yes well…it gave us a little glimpse into the other's head. So when I couldn’t find anyone to speak for me, I figured it was worth a shot. I expected him to say the same crap he did at the hearing and that would be the end of it. But he bartered…his character reference for my attending the Ball with him.”

“Well…I certainly hope he gave a good character reference if you whored yourself out for it,” Narcissa drawled. 

“Mother!” Draco sat up in his chair, “I wouldn’t…”

Narcissa smirked, “You are too easy sometimes son. I know that you wouldn’t need to be bribed to sleep with Mr. Potter. He’s quite fit, isn’t he?”

“Could we please leave my sex life, or lack thereof, out of this conversation please?” Narcissa giggled but nodded and Draco sank back in his chair. “As it happens, he did much more than a character reference. He got Marks riled up enough to get him kicked off the case and brought the Minister in to oversee my parole. He also changed the wording so that I could defend myself if needed and could make and procure potions ingredients if I found a Master to study under.”

“Well…he’s certainly gone out of his way to help you. Did you enjoy your time at the Ball?”

“Right up until Astoria stole me away, it was awkward at best. But…I managed to figure a little more about him towards the end of the evening.” Draco found himself smiling despite himself, remembering how close Harry had been as he whispered how much he hated his job.

Narcissa eyed him carefully, a look that Draco often imagined birds of prey to have. “If you had a good time, why did you spend days sulking in your room?”

Draco didn’t want to admit that Ron had been mean to him or brought up memories he hadn’t wanted to remember. He also didn’t want to bring them up for his mother, whose mental health hung on a thread when she started remembering the war. “I was considering how utterly mad I must be to be friends with Harry Potter when everyone he loves and everyone I love hates the other.”

“I do not hate Mr. Potter,” Narcissa pointed out, “and I seem to be the only person in your company at the present moment.”

His mother did have a point on that. All of his friends from school had their own parole and issues to work through. He received owls from Pansy, Nott, and Zambini; but they were mostly cordial correspondents. After all, he was Marked and they weren’t. “Well you need not worry, he’s won me over to his side of things.”

“Oh, is he that good in bed?”

Draco groaned and covered his face with his hands. Without Lucius to dampen her spirits, his mother had become a feisty and sarcastically humorous woman. He found her both irritating and enduring, even when she set out to embarrass him. “I’ve not slept with him mother.”

Narcissa laughed, “Best get on that before someone else does. I’ve seen the papers, he’s quite the catch. Pretty green eyes and that body…if he was into older woman, I’d be first in line.”

Draco heaved, “Good lord woman, stop speaking.”

Whatever quip, probably dirty, Narcissa was about to say died on her tongue when an elf popped into the room. Kreacher bowed, his nose touching the floor again, and eyes jumping with delight at the sight of both of them. “Kreacher?” 

Draco eyed his mother, wondering why she knew the elf’s name. “It is pleasure to see Mistress Black again,” Kreacher answered. 

Narcissa nodded, “Do you serve my son?”

Kreacher shook his head, “Nots for lack of tryings Mistress, but Master Malfoy isn’t the Black heir. Master Sirius, ungrateful wretch, wills me to Master Potter.” Draco hid his smile behind his hand as he was sure it would upset Kreacher that he found him amusing. “Master Malfoy, Master Potter requests you meets him at the Leaky Cauldron at 2:00pm today.”

Draco nodded, “Please let him know I will be there.”

Kreacher nodded and popped out of the room. “Well, he’s interesting.”

“All of Harry’s elves are,” Draco responded. He bit the bottom of his lip, staring at the spot that the elf had been standing. He was concerned why Harry would want to meet him in such a public spot. He had spent the evening after their lunch reading through the Prophet and letters he’d received. Thankfully, the wards at Malfoy Manor didn’t allow howlers or dangerous mail through, but the badly written and threatening letters made it through. Most people agreed with the Prophet article that Harry was rebelling against his good guy image by messing around with a Death Eater. Some people suspected him of using a love potion on Harry and informed him that they would be letting the Ministry know about his devious plans to break Harry’s heart and take his money. It was all absurdly amusing, seeing as how the only picture they had of the two of them was their arrival. They hadn’t even danced and even though their early departure was mentioned, no one mentioned a thing about the two hours Draco spent dancing with the handsy Astoria. 

“You are worried,” Narcissa whispered. “I wish I’d saved you from this.”

“You did what you could mother,” Draco responded. “I’m going to get ready, I expect my picture will end up in the paper again.” He knelt down and kissed her cheek, “I love you.” They had never said the words growing up, but Draco knew his mother appreciated hearing them by her choked reply back.

-x-

The Leaky Caldron was remarkably one of the very few places Draco hadn’t been banned because he’d never actually entered it since the war. It still had a shabby sort of look to it, but it was thankfully mostly empty. He knew that a girl, who’s name he couldn't remember but was in their year at school, had taken over for the toothless old man that used to own the place. He saw her eye him carefully before heading towards them and he wondered if Harry would understand when he found out that he’d been banned from here too. “This way please,” was all she said as she lead him down a narrow hall to a private room. She opened the door and Draco stepped through with a thanks. 

Harry was sitting at a table with tea and a paper but looked up the moment the door opened. “Hello,” he smiled and Draco had a moment to appreciate just how brightly Harry could smile. He’d never seen it directed at him and it made it all the more interesting to see how his face lit up with the simple gesture.

“Hello,” he replied and looked Harry over. While Draco had dressed sharply, Harry was once again as casual as he could get away with. He wore jeans that fit well, but were tattered around the knees, and a shirt that seemed to stretch tight across his shoulder. Draco took a seat across the table from him and poured a cup of tea from the tea tray. 

“So,” Harry said and Draco cringed at the mischievous look in his eyes, “I’ve got a sort of surprise for you.”

Draco cringed, “I barely survived the last time you got that odd look in your eyes. If you are planning on marching me down Diagon Alley, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

Harry chuckled and leaned back in the chair, letting it balance on the two back legs again. Draco took only a moment to appreciate how handsome Harry actually was and cursed his mother’s terrible accusations from earlier. He had to admit, watching the way Harry’s shirt rose up to show just a small inch of skin, that she had been right about one thing. He was quite fit. “I suppose I’ll have to save the parade for another time then.”

“Funny,” he drawled, “but what are we actually doing here?”

A knock on the door sounded before Harry could respond to Draco. “Come in,” he said and sent a reassuring smile to Draco. A small wizard, who was older than them but seemed to have very little in the way of height, slipped into the room. “Ah, good afternoon Archer.”

“Afternoon Mr. Potter,” the man said with a bright smile, “I’ve got your request.”

“Wonderful,” he said and reached his hand out. The small man dropped a bag into Harry’s hands and Draco could hear the clinking of coins. “Will that be all today Mr. Potter?”

Harry smiled and reached inside to gather two Galleons and handed them over, “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Just the usual,” he responded, “and to remind you that you are to never darken their doors unless you wish to lose a very…umm…important part of your anatomy.”

Harry laughed deeply and his chair teetered precariously, “Well if we’ve gotten to castration then I reckon I’ll be able to enter again when I’m about a hundred. I appreciate it all the same Archer.”

“Any time Mr. Potter,” Archer said. 

Draco watched the strange small man leave and turned back to Harry, who had taken a Snitch out of his pocket and was playing with it. “Who on Earth is threatening to castrate you?”

“The goblins,” Harry said without looking up at Draco. He caught the Snitch by leaning forward and his chair fell to all four legs again. “They’ve been quite upset with me since the war. Apparently, it’s not on to steal a guard dragon after breaking into a highly important vault and then fly said dragon through the roof. They started by threatening to disembowel me while I was alive, then burn me alive, and then gouge my eyes out and feed them to me. Since they’ve moved on from killing me to just maiming, I think I’m making progress.” He winked at Draco and stood up. “Well, let’s get going.”

Draco felt off kilter, a common feeling he seemed to be having nowadays. He hadn’t been close to Harry in school, but he knew that this new kind of casual ‘devil may care’ attitude suited him better than the seriously moody Harry he remembered. He got up, straightening out his shirt and followed along beside Harry as they left the room. The Leaky Caldron had picked up a bit since they’d been in the room and Draco hoped that no one would stop them. Harry seemed to think the same thing because he slunk out the back entrance and into the courtyard. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Harry whispered as he tapped the wall. “But I’ll need to you to be…well charming? I suppose that is the right word, flirty might be a bit better. She’s a tough bird, but I have a feeling that she’ll be sucker for a pretty face and an accent.”

“Are you setting me up?” 

Harry chuckled, “Of course not. But if you want your surprise, you’ll have to charm her into it.”

“You aren’t making any sense,” Draco said as they stepped into Diagon Alley.

“I know,” Harry said with another wink and headed down the street. He came to a stop in front of what used to be Slug and Jigger’s Apothecary, but now had a new sign. Anderson’s Apothecary, the new black sign with gold letters said. “Here we are.”

Draco kept his mouth shut because he was sure any question he would ask would simply get ignored by Harry. He was already here, he might as well go along with whatever mad scheme Harry had cooked up. They entered the shop and a little bell above the door announced their arrival. The strong and unpleasant smell that once filled the store was gone and replaced with an alluring mix of sweet flowers and spices. There was an organization here that had been missing from the original shop, each potion ingredient was labeled and housed in clear glass containers. The middle of the store held tables filled with common potions already prepared and a special table had been set up near the window with an advert for special pricing on pre-orders of a new elixir. The decor had also vastly improved, filled with royal blues and deep purples, with shimmering fairy lights about the ceiling and pictures of exotic locations on the walls. It gave Draco wanderlust just looking around and he was certain that had been the exact point of the decoration. “Good afternoon,” a smokey female voice said and she appeared from behind an emerald green curtain the hung behind the counter. 

Harry merely nodded, which was highly unusual for him, so Draco took up the courtesy of giving her a bright smile. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Anderson I presume?”

“Yep, that’s me,” she answered. She seemed to be about thirty, with long brown hair that was pulled artfully up on the top of her head. She wore a pale pink dress that hugged her generous curves and fluttered at her knees. But it was her accent, clearly American, that sparked Draco’s interest.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Draco said and stepped forward. He reached for her hand, which she offered, and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. “Quite a better vision than the past owner.”

“Uncle Jigger wasn’t that bad,” she said with a breathy giggle. Harry had been right about one thing, the accent and manners seemed to melt the witch in front of him.

Draco smiled and released her hand, “Well you’ve done remarkable things to this shop,” he said. “I appreciate the better smell greatly.”

She smiled, “Yeah Uncle Jigger liked his bad smells, he said it kept people from lingering too long.”

Harry stepped forward and shot his hand out, “Harry Potter.” The greeting was sharp and almost rude, causing Draco to raise his eyebrows and glare at Harry.

“Umm…hello.”

“Excuse him, he’s not normally so rude.” Draco nudged him in the ribs and Harry glared at him before heading to the front corner of the store. “He’s a bit famous and it sometimes goes to his head.”

“Famous huh,” she eyed Harry up and down before turning her full attention back to Draco. “For something idiotic I bet.”

It hit Draco like a ton of bricks what Harry’s game had been. Of course, this woman was American and had no idea of the war heroes. He was sure that American witches and wizards knew about the wars, but probably not the specific details. Harry had found him a Potions Master that might would take him on. “Only saving our arses.” Draco responded with a wink. “He’s a war hero, the War Hero actually.”

Mrs. Anderson nodded, “I heard a little about it,” she admitted, “mostly from my Uncle’s letters.”

“The five year anniversary was a few weeks ago and it’s still on people’s minds, bringing up all sorts of memories.” Draco made sure to look sad as his eyes fell down to the floor. He didn’t like manipulating people anymore, but he knew that he only had to get her to feel a bit of sympathy for him and then he could go back to being charming, but normal. 

“Oh, did you fight?”

Harry took a sharp intake of breath that Mrs. Anderson didn’t hear, “For the wrong side I’m afraid.”

He met her eyes, waiting to see her reaction, but her face remained unchanged. “Oh,” she laughed, “I guess people give you a hard time about it huh? You must have done something right or they would have locked you away, right?”

Draco leaned in so he could whisper, “I didn’t want to do anything.” He made sure that his voice broke just a little at the end of his sentence. 

She nodded and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Well, it’s nothing to me. After all, the war is over. Besides, you seem to be a perfectly acceptable gentleman.”

Draco smiled brightly at her, “You are a refreshing breath of air around here.” She flushed red and he held out his hand again, “My name is Draco.”

“You can call me Emily,” she shook his hand. “Were you looking for something particular today?”

“I just had to see the new store,” he responded. “It is quite remarkable.” She flushed again and Draco smiled, “Until next time Emily.” He turned, grabbing Harry’s arm and pulled him out of the store. He waited until they’d reached the alleyway two stores down before he stopped pulling Harry and turned to him. “You are fucking brilliant.”

Harry tossed his head back and preened, “I know.”

“How did you know?”

“Kingsley mentioned it to me actually,” Harry picked an invisible thread on his shirt. “After the Ball, I was trying to figure out how we were actually going to find you a Potions Master that would teach you and I was asking Kingsley what the options for you were if there wasn’t one. That’s when he mentioned the this place had been sold to Jigger’s American niece, who hadn’t a clue or care about a war five years ago. So I kind of…watched her setting up shop and figured that she’d be more receptive to you if you seemed like this charming guy and the big War Hero was a pompous arse.”

Draco sighed, “You are mad.” But the grin upon his face hadn’t quite eased up yet and gave away the fact that he wasn’t actually mad at Harry. “Do you think she’ll take me on? Even if she figures out about the act?”

“It wasn’t all an act,” Harry said as they begin walking through the alley and towards an Apparition point. “You can be quite charming when you put your mind to it. The flirting you can explain away that you don’t mix business with pleasure if she asks anything about it.”

“I could just admit I’m a flirty little gay boy and see how she responds.” Draco stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud and certainly not to Harry fucking Potter. Only his mother, Pansy, and a few select blokes from school knew about his…proclivities as Pansy liked to call it, and he’d been hoping to keep it that way.

Harry noticed the lack of Draco’s following steps and turned to see the blonde standing still with a paler than normal complexion. Harry burst out laughing, holding his stomach as if in pain. Draco glared, regaining some colour in his indignation. “Oh…did you think I didn’t know?” Draco sputtered something, unable to seriously form words. “Draco, I’ve know since school that you were bent.”

Regaining his voice and his anger, Draco squared his jaw. “How the fuck did you know that Potter?”

“Oh…Potter again huh? Must have made you pretty mad.”

“Is everything a fucking joke to you,” he hissed?

Harry grinned, “Sometimes. Why take life so seriously?”

Draco stepped forward and fingered his wand in his wrist holster. “You.Didn’t.Answer.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I don’t get why you are so upset. Obviously it doesn’t bother me. And I haven’t told anyone, if that’s what you are worried about.”

“How did you know?” His voice gained a depth and growl that sounded almost feral in the enclosed alleyway. Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and the grin faded from this face.

“Draco…maybe we should go somewhere else to talk about this.”

“I’m not going anywhere Potter, and neither are you, until you answer my question.” 

Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “In sixth year, you know that I was following you because I thought you were up to something. Well…I have this map that shows everyone’s position in Hogwarts. Unless you are in the Room of Requirement, it shows exactly where you are along with who might be with you. One night you were in the Prefects bath, with Zambini.”

Draco sagged against the wall, all his anger draining out of his body. He remembered that night, every detail of it, and he knew there was no way Harry was lying about this. “Shit.” The idea that Harry knew this secret, or all secrets, scared him to death and he wasn't entirely sure why. 

“Like I said, I don’t care. Be rather hypocritical me."

Draco shook his head, “I have to go.” He reached for his wand.

“Draco…wait…” Harry’s words rang out in the empty alleyway. Draco was gone.


	8. Letter of Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it has taken me this long to get this updated. Real life sucks. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. There will not be an update next week as I prepare for the holidays.

_Two Weeks Later_

Despite his desire to storm the Malfoy Manor and force Draco to speak with him, Harry had left him alone. He’d been informed by Kingsley that Emily Anderson had filled out all the paperwork for taking Draco under her tutor and of course, the Prophet picked up the story quickly. Mrs. Anderson had a way with words in the interview which left little doubt that she cared nothing about a long ago war and praised Draco’s potions ability warmly. Draco hadn’t made an appearance in public so Harry didn’t even know if this new change made him happy. He hoped it had, even if he was miserable without him. The Floo sparked to life and Harry looked up excitedly, only to drop his head back down when Ron and Hermione stepped through. “Morning Harry,” Ron said as he slid into a seat at the table.

Hermione gathered his empty tea cup and headed over to the stove to start a new kettle. “You need to send Daisy to the flat, it’s gotten a bit dusty.”

Harry shrugged and laid his head on the table. He didn’t want to deal with the two of them today. “So…want to let us know what’s got you all upset?” Ron took the cup of tea with a smile for Hermione.

Hermione slid Harry’s mug back towards him and sat opposite Ron at the table with her own mug of tea. “It’s Malfoy, isn’t it?”

Harry sighed and raised his head from the table. “You two don’t have to pretend you care.”

“Of course we care mate,” Ron stated. “You are our best friend. I know that I was hard on him but that was mostly just the shock of seeing him again. And after you told us what happened with him, Hermione and I agreed that we might not like the ferret, but you are our best friend always. And if you need to talk about anything, we are always here."

Harry felt bad the minute Ron finished talking. He hadn’t put enough faith in his friend’s ability to care for him. “You are right and I’m sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you guys.”

Hermione patted his hand, “We know that it’s not easy talking about things. Is it easier with Malfoy?”

“It is,” Harry admitted. “Not because I don’t want to talk to you guy, or because I think you’ll judge me or something. It’s just…different.”

“Do you like him?” Ron’s face got a bit red and his eyes followed the grain of the wooden table. 

“As a person, yeah,” Harry acknowledged. “I don’t know if there is something more there. Not that it matters now.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be quite so sure about that,” Hermione proclaimed. “I saw Malfoy the other day at Anderson’s. He looked happy…but like something was missing. And he practically sprained his neck eavesdropping on my conversation with Emily. I think he was hoping for some information about you. So, you want to tell us what happened?”

Harry groaned, “He let something slip about being gay and I told him I already knew. He got furious, I hadn’t seen him that angry since school, and he asked me how I knew. So I had to admit about the map and following him during 6th year. And I might have told him that it would be hypocritical of me to judge him for it. Then he was just gone.”

Hermione and Ron shared a look, “Well,” Hermione faltered, “maybe he fancies you.”

“What? You’ve lost it.”

“Not really mate,” Ron added.

“Let’s look at the facts,” Hermione exclaimed. “First, we know that you are an attractive man.”

Ron rolled his eyes at his wife. “It’s all the birds talk about in the tea room. Harry’s so dreamy, Harry’s so fit, Harry’s eyes are so green,” he griped. “And of course, you saved his life twice.”

“Not to mention that you are the first person, not just to offer him friendship, but to take a real interest in his life and well-being,” Hermione said. 

“So maybe he is just embarrassed that you knew something about him that he didn’t want you to know,” Ron said, “Or got to close to finding out that he fancies you.”

Harry didn’t respond right away, instead he mulled over what they’d said. If it was true, and Draco did fancy Harry, why hadn’t he said anything about it? He asked as much to Ron and Hermione.

“Well that’s easy to answer,” Ron quipped. “He doesn’t want to lose you.”

Hermione smiled brightly at her husband, “That’s very insightful of you Ron. And completely on the nose, put yourself in Draco’s shoes. Until you told him you were gay, he only had the Prophet gossip and your largely public all female past to go on. And it is obvious by the way things escalated that it wasn’t the most comfortable way to come out to each other. So, he probably left because he figured that you knowing he was gay might lead to you knowing about his crush on you and then you’d walk away from your friendship.”

“But that’s what he did,” Harry yelled. “I haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks.”

“You should give him some time mate,” Ron said. “He’s a proud bloke if nothing else and he’s likely to be licking his wounds and beating himself up enough on his own.”

Hermione smiled, “I agree. You should give him some personal space, but maybe write a letter. You didn’t answer Ron though, do you fancy him too?”

Harry didn’t know the answer to that question and when his two friends left, he was even more confused then he’d been before.

-x-

Draco felt like pulling his hair out. His mother was waiting outside his door as he was on his way out to Emily’s. “Good morning son.”

“Mother,” Draco drawled. “Have you been spying on me? Or simply resulted to stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t have to stalk you,” Narcissa huffed, “if you would just talk to me.”

“About what Mother,” Draco asked as they descended the steps?

Narcissa groaned, “I’ve raised an impossible and ungrateful child. I want to talk about Harry.”

“That’s interesting because I certainly don’t,” Draco responded casually. Inside, his stomach turned to knots at the thought of Harry bloody Potter. He’d managed to get by the past few weeks by focusing on everything else. He’d started training with Emily, who was delightful and intelligent, and most of his free time was spent studying just to keep her impressed. He appreciated the things she’d said to the paper in his defense and wanted to prove that she hadn’t made a mistake taking him on. Even though he didn’t need the money, he started working at the store to help Emily out and allow her the free time to wonder about London and sightsee. She came back from her afternoon trips with bright eyes and pictures that they’d started putting in an album for her. He also worried over nothing because it turned out that Emily was simply a flirt as well and had keep things strictly professional, if not a little friendly, between the two of them. It had made it easier to put all thoughts of Harry behind him while he was busy with the store and his training but at night he had to face them. “I’ve got to go mother.”

Narcissa drew her wand and a shimmery dome fell over Draco. He recognized it as his time out dome from when he was a child and he turned to glare at her. “Wonderful, I have your attention. Now, I’m aware that Mrs. Anderson doesn’t expect you in until 9, which means that you are nearly an hour early. Either you’ve begun an affair with this woman, highly unlikely given your proclivities, or you’ve been actively avoiding me.”

“You cannot put me in time out Mother, I am a grown adult.”

“I shall if you continue to act like a child,” she responded. “Now, have you had some kind of falling out with Mr. Potter?”

“No,” Draco hissed, “let me out of here.”

Narcissa groaned and flicked her wand, bringing the barrier down. “You are hopeless.”

“So I’ve been told,” Draco sneered and Disapparated away. He felt bad, arguing with his mother, and it affected his mood the whole day. Emily had been understanding, going into a long conversation about her own mother that helped Draco keep his mind off everything that was currently going top side up in his own life. His day was long and hard so that when he finally did go back home, he was more than exhausted. His mother had already retired for the night, an elf informed him, and a letter had arrived for him during dinner. Draco asked for a few sandwiches and headed up to his room with the letter. He recognized the messy handwriting instantly. Harry. He tore open the letter and begin to read. 

_Dear Draco,_

_Hi. I’m even less sure how to start this letter than I was the one before. I doubt a few well placed cheeky comments and worry for my elf’s well-being will be enough this time. Although, Kreacher is quite miffed at me and refuses to allow anyone to make Treacle Tart (my favorite) until I’ve begged for your total and absolute forgiveness. I’d be afraid of him leaving me if I didn’t know for a fact that the little bugger is fond of me._

_I’ve gotten off point again. I want to apologize but I’m not sure what for. I don’t care that you are bent and I’d hoped that you wouldn’t care that I am as well, but I don’t think that’s why you’ve stopped coming around. I should, however, take the time to apologize for spying on you in 6th year. Of course, you were actually up to something but that wasn’t an excuse to violate your privacy like that._

_I spoke with Ron and Hermione, which was a bit of a shock to tell you the truth. They’ve been far more understanding about our friendship than I had anticipated and I owed them an apology for not recognizing that. Neither one are anywhere close to actually having a conversation with you, but they’ve both been supportive of my choices._

_To tell you the truth, I’m glad you let it slip. I feel like I know so little about you and I guess that’s mostly my fault. I’ve spent most of our time fixing your problems or spilling my secrets, I’ve not given you the time to talk with me. Not that you have to, I know you are a private person and I can respect that. But…I would hope that you know that you could talk with me about anything. I’d never judge you and I’d never tell a soul. I’d swear it on my magic if you asked me to. I’ve spent a lot of time these past few weeks thinking about things and I want you to know that your friendship…it means more to me than you can imagine. I’m not sure how to explain it that doesn’t sound…well a bit mad I suppose. But I should explain it the best way I can because you at least deserve that much._

_The night I found you in the alley, I was sneaking away from Seamus’ stag do. To tell the truth, it was pretty amazing that I had even shown up. Ron only got me to go because I’d been skipping out on all the social shit for months. I was just sick of everything. I know it sounds ungrateful and arrogant, but being famous isn’t all that. I was sick of being followed, sick of the Prophet hounding me, and sick of everyone’s expectations of me. But mostly, I was sick of the way everything seemed…easy, I guess you could say. When I saw you, I remembered that you didn’t have it easy and it wasn’t fair. What right did I have to be fawned over and praised while you suffered? I knew, even if no one else cared, what it had been like for you living through the war. And when you had that nightmare, it just confirmed everything. You were scared, the same way I was scared. I faced the idea of my death for years and people alway commented on how brave I was. But you did the same thing and they jumped to vilify you. That Mark on your arm, it doesn’t define who you are. What we do, the choices we make, that defines us. And you…Draco Malfoy, you lowered your wand. Yes, you did some pretty awful things and you said some terrible stuff. I’m not stupid, I know that you believed them when you said them. But I also know that Dumbledore was offering you a way out and you lowered your wand. You wanted that chance and you would have taken it, if Snape and the Death Eaters hadn’t interfered._

_I’ll admit that until I saw you that alley, I hadn’t really thought about you. And for that, I owe you an apology. If I am the hero they claim me to be, I should have spent more time remembering that there were more victims than just us. But to tell you the truth, I don’t think I would have been successful any earlier. When the war was over, the wounds were still so fresh that it would have been hard to press people the way I’ve been pressing them now. Despite that, it wasn’t fair for you to have to live the way you did for so long. I can only move forward and hope that you accept my apologies._

_I didn’t lie, you are different. Not just that you are a different kind of person than you used to be, but you are a different sort of person than most. I can’t really explain how…I just get this feeling. I also understand you in the same way that I think you understand me, which helps me trust you in a way that I don’t think I’d be able to trust anyone else. No one else could have sat on those steps and listened to me talk about how much I wanted to walk through that Veil and join them. I never even told Ron and Hermione about using the stone. I don’t think they would have understood and I never told them I went back for it. But you listened and you didn’t try to trivialize my pain or explain it away. You just…understood._

_I had hoped that you might start to feel the same of me. That you’d want to share your past and your secrets with me. I had hoped you would learn to trust me the way I’ve come to trust you. I know that I can’t force someone into that and obviously by your reaction to your little slip, it isn’t the case with you. I understand how it must feel for you. I could understand you being wary, afraid that it might all be game to me. I can understand the internal struggle that must still reside inside you, the part of you that your father raised and groomed and the man you are trying to become. I know all about fighting against a darkness that no one would understand. I know that it’d be easier to give in and that every day is a fight just to be the person you want to be, rather than the weapon they forged us into. And I can understand if I am not the person you need._

_Hermione and Ron say that you need space and I’ll give it. Please know that my home is always open for you and I’m here…whenever or if you are ever ready._

_Yours,_

_Harry James Potter_

_P.S. Congratulations on getting Emily to train you. You will be an amazing Potions Master. Snape would be proud._

The letter fluttered to the bed, “Fuck.” Harry couldn’t make anything easy, not even when Draco walked away. The words in that letter caused the knot in his stomach to tighten, the same knot he got every time Harry smiled at him. He was well and truly fucked now. 


End file.
